


I Want To Know What Love Is

by MyFirstAndLastVow09



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Ginny, F/M, Fluff, Long One Shot, Love, M/M, Nice Malfoys, One Shot, lots of love, wedding crashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFirstAndLastVow09/pseuds/MyFirstAndLastVow09
Summary: Harry and Draco dated and then broke up. End of story...right? Nope. Especially not with these two. Comes with meddling, but well meaning friends.





	I Want To Know What Love Is

**Author's Note:**

> This is a plot bunny I had in my head that would just not leave me alone. I have read so many fics of Harry/Draco, it is almost embarrassing...almost. However, I did not ever read one with a plot quite like this one. Enjoy!
> 
> Not beta'd or brit-picked. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or the characters within. No money is being made, just for fun.

Draco Malfoy was in a Muggle pub, of all places, supposedly at his Bachelor party. At Blaise’s insistence, he dragged Draco out to celebrate his impending marriage the following week. Blaise’s words exactly were, “You can’t leave me all alone in single life! Not without getting completely sloshed first!” He was to be married to Astoria Greengrass, of the Greengrass estate. They had been betrothed since they had been in diapers. He held back a snicker at the absurdity of it. His mother and father were part of an arranged marriage, of course. It just lucked out in their favor that they were already dating in secret since their sixth year at Hogwarts. How was he supposed to marry a woman he’s only met once? 

He took a sip of his whiskey, and shuddered. Horrible swill, Draco thought bitterly. He stared at the mirror behind the bar, at his own reflection for a moment and looked away. He hadn’t been able to look at himself for quite some time. Not since…

“Hello? Draco? You in there?” Draco heard his friend say, while tapping him on the shoulder. Draco was brought out of his brooding and smiled in Blaise’s direction. 

“Sorry, Blaise. You were saying?” Draco asked. He tried to look like he was having a good time…unsuccessfully, judging by the look on Blaise’s face. 

“I was in the middle of telling my story about the Japanese twins, and how bendy they are! You blank out during that?” Blaise looked offended, which had Draco laughing at him. “You know, you could try to let go every once in a while. It wouldn’t kill you,” Blaise scoffed. He threw back the pink shot that was in his right hand, trying to hand the one in his left to Draco. Draco chuckled and politely declined. “Ah…going a little straight edge, are we?” Blaise teased. 

Draco scoffed and shook the glass in his hand a little, to point it out. “No, I just don’t drink alcoholic beverages that have the color of a Pygmy Puff. I am having a good time. Just been…thinking, I guess,” he said, with a shrug. 

“Care to share with the class?” Blaise asked. 

“I haven’t seen Astoria since Hogwarts. Hell, she was a Slytherin and I do not remember her at all. Father tells me that I am not to see her until the night before the ceremony, at the rehearsal. Why on earth is this still going on? I feel like I was auctioned off to the highest bidder, for Merlin’s sake,” Draco asked. Although he knew the answer, he took pleasure in complaining to one of the people who would listen. 

“Hey, in your Father’s defense, he did say he would get you out of it. He knows that you are…well, that you don’t particularly enjoy the company of a female in your bed. So, what I am still struggling to understand is why in the absolute hell are you marrying this woman at all? I mean, before you and--“ Blaise started to say, and quickly cut himself off from the withering look Draco gave him. “Right, sorry. You just surprised Pans and I, you know. We thought you were going to--- well, it’s just that we worry about you.” 

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I assure you that I am perfectly fine with this. As much as I complain, I think I can learn to love her…right?” Draco mused. A small voice in the back of his mind said, Yeah right. She’s not a vegetable that tastes funny the first time you eat it. 

“Yeah…I guess. I couldn’t imagine being in your shoes, though.” Blaise said, grimacing at the sip of whiskey he took from Draco’s glass. 

“Oi!” Draco shouted, while laughing. 

“Why are you drinking that?” Blaise asked, a look of disgust on his face. 

“To drown my sorrows.” Draco deadpanned. Then, at the look on Blaise’s face, laughed. “Seriously? This is the highest end whiskey they had. Trust me, I asked.” 

“Pity. But, seriously Draco, I am worried. I worry that you are doing this as a sense of family obligation.” Blaise commented. He looked Draco straight in the eye, and the latter looked away quickly. “Fucking knew it. Why?” 

“Leave it, Blaise.” Draco warned. 

“But, you and—“ Blaise began. 

“Blaise please. Not now,” Draco begged. He felt like his lungs were shrinking in size, and he could barely get any air into them. Just like every other time someone brought this up, and it never got any easier. 

“No, Draco. I don’t get it. That maniac is gone, thank fucking Merlin. We all escaped with our lives and we are free to do, and free to be with who we want now. You were so happy; deliriously so, in fact. Then one day, poof! Gone. You did a complete turnaround in a day and a half and I want to know WHY. I may be asking all of this because I am halfway to being wasted off my arse, but you need to tell me. I am your best friend. You can trust me!” Blaise exclaimed. 

Draco squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, and that was nothing compared to the way his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. He had to get out of there. “I have to go.” He quickly rose from his seat, pulling the muggle money he took with him for the drinks, and threw a few notes on the bar without bothering to count them. “Thanks for bringing me.” 

“Draco, come on! Draco!” Blaise called at his friend’s retreating back. “Damn it. Alright, blondie. I didn’t want to do this but you leave me no choice.” He drained his drink in his hand, and slammed the glass down. He threw some more notes on the bar, waved to the bartender to close his tab and walked out the door. Blaise made sure there weren’t any Muggles close by, and walked to the Apparation point beside the establishment, which was located in a dark alleyway. He knew he shouldn’t be Apparating while intoxicated, but it wasn’t the first time he had done it. Desperate times call for stupid decisions, he thought. Splinching is worth the risk to wipe that horrible, depressed, kicked puppy look off my best friend’s face. When he reached his destination, he walked up to the door, and let the wards recognize his magical signature. When they let him pass, he walked through the flat to the living room, sat on the sofa and waited. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long. 

A light came on, and a petite, pale woman with a pug nose and black hair pulled up into a messy knot, peeked around the corner with a scowl on her face. “What in seven circles of hell?” 

“Pansy, darling. We need to talk…” Blaise said, with a sly smile. 

“What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the bloody night!” Pansy screeched. Though she protested, she plopped down on the sofa next to him, and curled her feet underneath her. She knew if her friend was here this late, it couldn’t be anything good.

“It was important. It’s about our favorite Malfoy, of course.” Blaise explained, with a sigh. 

“The wedding?” Pansy asked, biting her lower lip. 

“Yup.” Blaise said, popping the ending ‘p’. 

“What about it? I thought everything was situated and ready to go,” Pansy said, confused. 

“Oh, it is. Except for the fact that the groom is a miserable bastard. He does not want to marry her, damn it! How can you not see it?” Blaise exclaimed, standing and starting to pace. 

“Of course I noticed, Blaise. But, it isn’t our place to sway him in any direction.” Pansy said, with a sigh. 

“How the bloody hell isn’t it? You know he is doing this to appease his parents! Not because he actually wants to!” Blaise shot back.

“I am saying it’s not because we can’t. You know how he is. Once his mind is made up, that’s it. He is like his Father in that way,” Pansy said, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. 

“But, they were so happy. What happened? He still won’t tell me. Man is like a vault in Gringotts, for fuck’s sake,” Blaise said with a sigh. He dropped down on the sofa again, shaking his head. 

“I know. I don’t want to see him unhappy any more than you do, but all we can do right now is support him. No matter if he is making the wrong decision.” Pansy said, laying a hand on Blaise’s arm for comfort when he sat back down beside her. “His parents aren’t even sure what happened. His mother doesn’t even know, and you know how close they are.” 

“Is…he coming to the wedding?” Blaise asked, looking at Pansy with raised eyebrows. He didn’t mention a name, but he knew she would understand who he meant. 

“Oh…him? I doubt it. Draco sent him an invitation, under the ruse of politeness. They are still friends, but they barely speak, except in passing. Why?” Pansy asked.  
“Just wondering if he will try anything stupid if he does come, is all.” Blaise chuckled out. “Oh, that would be a sight to see.”  
“Judging by who we are talking about, knowing him like we do, I wouldn’t put it past him. His friends are coming, though. Hermione sent an owl to Draco last month, RSVP-ing for them both.” Pansy informed him. 

“Good. Maybe Ron can shed some light on this.” Blaise said. 

“I doubt they know either. Neither one of them were very forthcoming with anyone after the big blowout.” Pansy uncurled her legs and stretched them out in front of her. 

“Merlin, neither of them are very flappable, are they?” Blaise asked, with a groan. 

“The men definitely cannot be flapped,” Pansy said, with a smirk. 

Blaise laughed openly at that. “Draco, yes I can believe that. But the other?” 

“Given it’s him, I would say that it was a lie; that yes, he is very…outward with his emotions. But, in this case? No. He hasn’t spoken a word about it since it happened.” Pansy mused. “Very unlike him, I must say.” 

“You don’t think…”Blaise wondered aloud. 

“What?” Pansy asked. 

“That Draco’s parents…I dunno…made him leave Draco do you?” Blaise asked. 

“Hell no. Lucius might have been surprised at the match at first, but he was happy that Draco was happy. Narcissa was absolutely cooing over him. Didn’t you see her at Draco’s birthday party at the Manor? They were just as shocked as the rest of us when they split.” Pansy asked, with an eyebrow raised. 

“Okay, I was just asking if that was a distinct possibility. Well, you know what we have to do, don’t you?” Blaise asked, standing. 

“What?” Pansy inquired. 

“We are going to have to speak with Harry Potter. And soon.” Blaise said, with finality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Harry Potter was a man of simple tastes. He liked warm spring days, spending time with his family and friends, Quidditch and treacle tart. He enjoyed the work he did…most days. With all of these things together, Harry figured he had a pretty good life; considering when he was seventeen, he didn’t know if he would live to see his eighteenth birthday. So, he thought, why does it feel like I have a hole in my heart? He grimaced at the large amount of paperwork on his desk. He finished the current form he was on and placed it neatly on the stack. He didn’t particularly enjoy paperwork, but it gave him a much wanted distraction.

“Knock, knock,” said a familiar voice. Harry looked up to see a head of red hair, and smiled. “Alright?” Ron Weasley asked, as he walked in. 

“Suppose so. You finished with the Clancy report yet?” Harry asked. 

“Yep. Just sent it to the Unspeakables. I still can’t believe he did that. What did he think was going to happen, trying to smuggle illegal dragon eggs in?” Ron said, with a chuckle. 

“Maybe he wanted to start a dragon circus,” Harry muttered, with a slight smirk. 

“Oh! So he does still have a sense of humor!” Ron guffawed. 

“Of course I do,” Harry said, dipping his quill in the ink pot on his desk, only to realize it was empty. He sighed and rummaged around in his desk drawer for a pen. Why wizards didn’t use them more often was beyond him. 

“Harry?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah?” Harry replied, still looking for a pen. He finally found one on the bottom of the last drawer he looked in. “Aha!” he said, triumphant. 

“You coming out with us tonight?” Ron inquired. 

“Not tonight. I have some stuff to catch up on here.” Harry said, absentmindedly. It was such an automatic response, that he didn’t even think before he spoke. It had been engraved in his brain for a long time. 

“You never come out with us anymore! ‘Mione practically begged me to drag you to the Leaky tonight, no matter what. But, you know I won’t do that. Still, it would be nice to see you out of the office,” Ron said. 

“I see you guys Sunday at the Burrow! Look, I just—“ 

“No, you don’t get to ‘I just’. Ever since you and—“ Ron began. 

“Ron, no.” Harry warned. 

“I’m just saying ever since then, you have become a recluse. You come here and then go home. There, all the company you have is a barmy old house elf! Look, we are just worried about you.” Ron said, looking sheepish. 

“While I appreciate it, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just fine,” Harry said, with more conviction than he felt. 

“When is the last time you have been on a date then, eh?” Ron asked, raising one eyebrow. 

“I don’t have bloody time, do I? Not with all the raids and stakeouts we have been on!” Harry cried. Truth was, the stakeouts have only lasted a day or so, and then back home they all were. It was a pitiful excuse, but an excuse all the same.

“Pfft. Excuses,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “Mione and I have a date night once a week, except if our jobs keep us from doing so, such as traveling. Twice, if both hers and my schedules agree. We even go see my mum and dad more than once a week as well, if time permits.”

“Your point? As Head Auror, I have to make an example for the rest of team,” Harry pointed out. 

“As Junior Head Auror, so do I. That doesn’t stop me from living my life, mate. Especially now that we all have lives to live,” Ron said, leaning back in his chair. 

“Ron, please drop this. When I want to date, I will. I just don’t want to right now. I honestly don’t have time.” Harry said, going back to the form in front of him. He could barely read the words on the page, though, with his heart beating as fast as it was. 

“You had time before. You MADE time, remember? Hell, you even wanted to LEAVE the Auror Corps and open a bookshop. What happened to that?” Ron asked. He hated pushing Harry like this, but he felt that it was necessary. 

“Ron, please.” Harry felt like he was going to break. 

“No, Harry. I have let this go too long, and ‘Mione agrees with me. You’re my best mate, and when you are clearly miserable—“ Ron started, but Harry interrupted, “I AM NOT!” and Ron continued as if he didn’t hear him. “When you are clearly miserable, that doesn’t sit right with me. I know you may not want to talk about what happened, but…mate, you need to.” 

“You know what happened. Why talk about it?” Harry asked, with a trembling voice. 

“Yeah, just what you told us. But, if that were true, than you wouldn’t be looking like you just saw a Dementor.” 

“What more is there to say? It ended. End of story. What else is there?” 

“That is not all that happened, and you know it. Harry! Look at me!” Ron yelled. Harry was looking down and wouldn’t look his friend in the eye. He was gripping his desk so hard, his knuckles were white. His vision had black spots swimming in it, and he felt like he couldn’t get any air into his lungs. He knew he had to get out of there, and fast. 

“I have some stuff to do. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Harry said, standing up and exiting his office.

“Harry! Harry! Damn it. Screw this. I’m taking half a vacation day, right fucking now. Amy!” Ron called. 

A petite blonde woman in a pink dress robes set popped into Harry’s office. “Yes, Mr. Weasley?” 

“Put me down for a vacation day.” Ron said. He stole a glance at Harry’s desk, and sighed. “Him, too.” Amy nodded. 

“Of course, sir. Any particular reason why so sudden?” she asked. 

“Wish I fucking knew,” Ron muttered, and brushed past her, leaving Amy confused but complied with his wishes anyway. After locking up his own office, he Apparated home. He walked in, to find Hermione already there. Of course it was lunch time, and it was her day off. 

“Oh! Hello, there. You want something to…what happened?” she asked, noticing the look on her husband's face.

“Harry,” Ron said, as a way of explanation, as he sat down at their kitchen table. 

“Talk to me, love. I’ll make some tea.” Hermione suggested, patting his arm. Ron watched her get up from the table, and heard her bustle around behind him. It was comforting.

“He so…ugh. He’s so stoic, you know? And that is not the Harry I know. I mean, he blew up his Aunt when he was pissed off. for God's sake. At thirteen years old!” Ron exclaimed.

“Oh, I remember.” Hermione said, putting the kettle on the stove to boil and lighting it with her wand. 

“I just don’t get it. He still won’t tell us what happened between them. Do not tell me that isn’t it, because you know it is,” 

“I didn’t say anything to the contrary, Ronald. What I will say is that we cannot do anything but support him. You know once Harry sets his mind to something, that’s it.” Hermione replied. 

“He’s just so…unflappable.” 

“I know.”

“How can you be fine with this?” Ron asked her, surprised.

“I am not saying I am, but, again, I cannot make decisions for him. He’s a grown man! I have tried to get him to talk about it for a year now. I figured a year was a suitable enough time frame for him to heal from it all, but apparently not.” Hermione explained. 

“Would you get over me in just a year? Be honest, now.” Ron said, quirking an eyebrow. 

“No,” Hermione whispered, looking at the table. 

“There you go,” Ron said, smiling a little. 

Hermione kissed his cheek, and got up to take the boiling water off the heat. "When did you get so wise?" she asked, as she poured tea for them both, and brought steaming mugs to the table. 

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the mug from her. "When I married you, love. Ah...I just don’t know how to help him. I know he wants to be with him, and the other I know for a damn fact wants the same. They are both too stubborn for their own good.” 

“Oh, you can say that again. How surprised I was at their match in the first place, all things considered, especially their history. But, they just…fit, you know?” Hermione said, sipping her tea. 

“I have never seen Harry that happy in all the years I’ve known him, and he dated my sister for a little bit. I hate to say it, but Ginny didn’t make him as happy as that. I know Harry loved her, and loves her still, but like a best friend.” Ron mused. Hermione nodded her head in agreement. 

“You know the wedding is next week. I said we would go, remember?” Hermione reminded Ron. 

“I know,” Ron said, looking off into the far corner of the kitchen. 

“You think Harry will go?” 

“Doubt it,” 

“Why?” 

“Would you want to watch the love of your life marry someone else?” Ron asked, seriously. 

“Absolutely not.” Hermione said, quickly. 

“Yeah, you would just send little birds to attack me,” Ron teased her.

“I was sixteen!” 

“Jealous and sixteen,” Ron teased, with a grin. 

Hermione whacked him lightly on the arm. “Will you ever stop bringing that up?” 

“Nope,” Ron joked. 

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand…what are we going to do?” she asked. 

“I think it’s time we call in backup.” Ron decided, standing and setting his mug down.

“Ron, it’s not an Auror mission! Where are you going?” Hermione asked, following him out of the kitchen. 

“Gotta make a call,” Ron said, leaning down to the fireplace. He grabbed some of the floo powder on the shelf beside him, and threw it in. Green flames burst to life, and he said, “Parkinson, Pansy.” 

“Really? You think we’re there already?” Hermione asked. 

“We were there two years ago, when all of this happened. I am tired of seeing my best friend pining and miserable. I know they are tired of it, too.” Ron told her, while waiting for his call to be answered. A head appeared in the flames, looking like she was expecting it. 

“Ron. Hermione. What can I do for you?” 

“We need to meet,” Ron said, with a nod. Pansy Parkinson sighed and nodded. 

“I was going to call you in about an hour, anyway. I’ll let Blaise know. Leaky? 7 o’ clock?” Pansy suggested. 

“Sounds good. See you then,” Ron said, ending the call. 

“Got a plan have you?” Hermione asked, teasingly. 

“Remember what Harry said before? ‘We plan, all hell breaks loose?’ So no, I think I had better wing this. It’s better this way,” Ron decided. 

“Alright, then. I’ll make you a sandwich before you return to work, then?” Hermione suggested, standing up and brushing off her jeans. 

“Actually, I took the rest of the day off…” Ron said, with a sly grin. 

“Forget the sandwich then,” Hermione said, in a hurry as she grabbed Ron’s hand and led him back to the bedroom. Ron couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Alone time with nothing to do was rare for them, so Ron was more than happy to take advantage of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco got home from work that evening from Gringotts, very worn out. Meetings with department heads would do that, he mused. The Goblins were nothing but accommodating, but these uppity men from the Bank were just exhaustingly dull. He tried, and failed, not to doze off a few dozen times during the meetings. He got what he wanted to accomplish done, however; which was extended security for all of the vaults in Gringotts, not just the high value ones. He thought everyone deserved to have the peace of mind that their money was safe and sound, down below in the caverns. 

“Draco? You in here, son?” Lucius Malfoy said upon entering the study Draco was currently in. 

“Yes. I was just coming in. Would you like a drink before dinner?” Draco asked him. 

Lucius took a seat in an armchair, hand resting on the cane in his hand. “No, thank you. Your mother made me a drink earlier.” He noticed his son’s tired face, and frowned. “Bad day?” 

“Not too. Just very tiresome. I don’t know how you dealt with those men on a daily basis, Father. They are all just so…so…” 

“Boring?” Lucius put in, with a smirk. 

“Yes. Merlin, I didn’t realize that I would be explaining myself over and over…and over again, to fully grown men, obviously more experienced in this line of work than myself. Either they truly just didn’t get it, or they just wanted me to try and make a complete arse out of myself. Which didn’t happen, by the way, so it was all for naught if that were the case” Draco explained. He shed his outer dress robes, leaving him in wool trousers and a cashmere cream colored sweater. He sat down in the chair opposite his father. He tapped the glass beside him with his wand, and it filled with two fingers of scotch. 

“I am sure you didn’t. You are a Malfoy, after all. It is just not done,” Lucius tried for an indignant, haughty tone, but Draco quirked an eyebrow and he couldn’t hold it in. He laughed openly. “I tried, ok?” 

“I know. I was just seeing how long you could keep it up,” Draco teased him. 

“Look here, young man! I am the epitome of poise, grace, and solemn expression.” Lucius huffed. 

Draco grinned. “Yeah, ok. Since when? Says the man who wore a jingle bell headband most of Christmas Day last year, because he was too soused on egg nog to notice,”

“Oi!” Lucius exclaimed. 

“Ah, it's good to be home,” Draco said, with a smile. 

“So, do you have any prior engagements after dinner?” Lucius asked. 

“No, why?” Draco asked, picking up the evening edition of the Prophet. 

‘Haven’t seen you out of the Manor, lately.” Lucius mused. Draco hid himself behind the paper. “Anything wrong?” 

“Nothing at all. Just getting everything ready for next week is a job in itself. I haven’t had much time to do much else.” Draco replied, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. 

“Everything is all set, as far as I know. Should be taking this time to be with your friends.” Lucius suggested. 

“I spent time with Blaise Zabini a few days ago, Father.” Draco said, setting the paper down. With his father questioning him as he was, he wouldn't be able to read it anyway.

“Yes, but as I understand it, you were only gone for an hour or so.” Lucius mused. 

“So?” 

“So, I just am wondering if everything was alright.” 

“…” Draco could only stare at him, because he didn't have an answer for him at the moment. 

“Draco?” Lucius asked. 

“Yes, everything is just fine. I am looking forward to the wedding and my life after. Nothing is wrong.” Draco said, quickly. 

Lucius, however, did not buy it. “Draco…” 

“I am going to change and get cleaned up for dinner. See you soon,” Draco said, and quickly stood and exited the study. Lucius sighed, and didn’t go after him. He knew it would be mostly the same perfunctory answers he had been getting for a year anyway. He hadn’t noticed how long he had been sitting there, thinking, until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. He startled a bit, but relaxed when he noticed who it was. 

“Jumpy tonight, my dear. Something wrong?” Narcissa Malfoy asked her husband. He looked into her clear blue eyes, and smiled. 

“Draco.” He replied. She smiled a sad smile and sat down on the chair that Draco had vacated earlier. 

“Tell me?” Narcissa asked. 

“I don’t know if we are letting all of this happen too soon. I don’t know if we are letting him make the right decision. I mean, after everything with…you know,” Lucius said, with a grimace at the way his wife tensed up. “I don’t mean to bring this up to upset you. I know how you care for the boy,”  
“I know. I know what you are saying, Luc, but what do we do? Draco is fully set in his decision to marry Astoria in a week. How can we possibly dissuade him now? After trying to do so for the better part of the last year?” Narcissa inquired. She leaned back in the chair and rested her index and middle fingers under her chin. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. I can tell he is miserable. He goes to the Bank for work, and comes home. The only Owls he sends are business related, he only goes out for his personal shopping when absolutely necessary. He never sees his friends. This is not like him at all. Remember? He used to be everywhere! We couldn’t keep him in this Manor for longer than ten minutes! Unless, of course…HE was here.” Lucius sighed with the memories. “I still don’t know why he went to work in the Bank. He was going to study to become a chef, remember? What happened to that?”

“I remember. He still won’t tell me what happened. Pansy and Blaise don’t know, and you know how Draco tells them everything. It’s all just so strange,” Narcissa mused. 

“You don’t think he’s doing this because of me, do you?” Lucius asked, his face wracked with guilt. Which was nothing compared to what he felt in his heart. 

“He assured us that he’s not.” Narcissa said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. I would feel awful if he was getting married for the sake of an heir. An heir isn’t as important as his happiness. I understand his orientation, after all.” 

Narcissa made a very unladylike sound; she snorted. “Orientation? Why on earth do you say it like that?” she asked, as a large smile came across her face. 

“What else am I supposed to say?” Lucius asked, clearly confused. 

“Never mind. I know we both know he likes men, so why is he marrying a woman?” Narcissa asked. “A woman he barely knows, at that?” 

“That, Cissy, is the million Galleon question, isn’t it?” Lucius replied. He fidgeted with his cane in hand as he thought, making it go back and forth in his other hand, then back to his previous one. Reminded him of a pendulum, a bit. He stopped to rest his cane against his leg, accidentally knocking it on his knee. He held back a hiss at the pain. He had taken a rather ugly curse to the leg during the battle, and it still pained him on some days. Narcissa must have noticed his grimace, and walked over to him. 

“Alright, dear?” she asked, with a smile. 

“Just fine. Need to stand now, though.” Lucius stood up, with the aid of his cane. He let out a grunt of effort, and grabbed his wife’s hand that she offered for support. “What are you going to do with this old man, Cissy?” 

“You’re not old, now hush. Dinner should be served soon.” She said, smiling sweetly at him. 

Lucius couldn’t help but think about his son while they walked to the dining room for dinner. He hoped Draco was not doing this in some insane sense of family obligation. He vowed after the War to make sure his son was the happiest he could be. Being driven out of their home, and almost dying was enough for Lucius Malfoy during the War. His son was constantly bullied by his housemates for being neutral, then joining the Light side. His family would be the first in a long line of Malfoys to not fall prey to Dark Magic. He knew Draco’s school years, besides the last one, were the hardest on him, so he vowed to make sure his son was never miserable like that again. Now, it seems he is failing in that promise and that did not sit right with him at all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry didn’t return to work that day. He held up in Grimmauld Place with Kreacher, constantly walking around the house, looking for ways to improve it. He had already done so much with it, and had been doing so after he left Hogwarts, so there wasn’t much left to do. After completely gutting the living room, and sitting room, he did the kitchen. He ended up getting a few TVs, a deep freezer, a brand new fridge, complete with an icemaker, for the kitchen and other odds and ends that really made the house his own. The third floor, he decided to leave alone, since that was where Sirius’ and Regulus’ rooms were. He cleaned up around them, but didn’t have the heart to do much else. After he returned home, Harry cast cleaning spells over the dusty bits in his bedroom, and disrobed from his Auror uniform. He took a quick shower and headed downstairs to see what he had to fry up for supper, much to the annoyance of Kreacher. 

“Master Harry, please let me make you dinner, sir. You look dead on your feet.” Kreacher pleaded with him, day in and out. Kreacher always said that, even if he wasn’t working that day. Harry couldn’t argue with him, it was like arguing with a wall, but he made it a point to at least cook his own breakfast. Besides, Kreacher didn’t make the coffee near as strong as…well, he didn’t make it strong enough. 

“Fair enough, Kreacher. Just don’t strain yourself. It is just me,” Harry insisted. 

“Very well, sir. Go rest now, Master Harry. Dinner will be ready soon,” Kreacher told him, shooing him out of the kitchen. Harry smiled at him and walked away. Even though Kreacher hated him at first, after the War, Kreacher really did take good care of him and the house, even though he was up there in age. Harry sometimes felt bad, but Kreacher got offended at even the thought. Harry left it alone after that. 

He walked into the large sitting room, and sat down on the oversized, cozy sofa he made it a point to buy as soon as he moved in here by himself. He sometimes never made it to bed, and fell asleep on it, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, while watching telly. He flicked on the TV, settling on a movie that could just play in the background. He had seen it a bunch of times, and he liked it, but just would rather have the noise for now, as a distraction. The noise tended to drown out the thoughts going around in his head, as they did. Not totally, he thought, but enough to where he could relax for a moment or two. 

He thought about what Ron said earlier today. He knew his friend was worried about him, and had the best of intentions to help, but he couldn’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. He had lost the best thing he had ever had in his entire life, leaving behind a gaping hole that could only be filled by one person. And said person is getting married to that bint, Harry thought with a grimace. 

“That isn’t fair. I don’t even know her,” Harry told himself. He smiled, despite how desolate he really felt. Talking to myself probably doesn’t help matters, either does it? He thought. Kreacher called from the kitchen to announce dinner was ready. He looked at the grandfather clock by the wall. It was just 6 o clock, now…maybe I can still catch them at the Leaky after dinner? Harry thought. At the very least, it would cease Ron’s worries for a little while. He made his decision to eat, then go out to the Leaky to join his friends. What he didn’t know, was exactly how many friends would be there…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron and Hermione entered the busy pub, and grabbed a booth big enough for the four of them. They didn’t see Blaise or Pansy yet, so Ron decided it would be better to wait to get drinks until they arrived. He checked his watch, and it was only five minutes until 7 pm. Hermione made sure they were early, so they could discuss talking points they want to bring up this evening.

“So? What d’you reckon?” Ron asked his wife. 

“I don’t know how to approach this, to be honest. It is rather a sensitive nature. Besides, this was all your idea,” Hermione pointed out, folding her hands on the table.

“Oi! Don’t you care about Harry and his happiness?” 

“Of course I do! You know that very well. I am not interested in forcing him into something, though. See how well that panned out fifth year, remember?” Hermione quipped. 

“This is not the same thing. We aren’t fighting a war here, ‘Mione.” 

“Then why does it feel like we are going behind his back? Again? Only this time, there isn’t Dumbledore to tell us what NOT to tell him,” Hermione brought up a very good point. Ron did feel a little gnawing feeling in his gut that told him this was wrong. That he should accept his friend’s wishes and stay out of it. He thought a moment. Nah, he thought to himself. 

“Nope. This has gone on for far too long. I cannot stand him like this. It’s like he’s a walking shell of a man. Unless it involves people we are helping at work, he doesn’t have any other interest in anything else. He even turned down the Quidditch tickets to Ginny’s opening game with the Harpies.” 

“No he didn’t!” Hermione gasped. 

“He did. He said he was ‘busy with work’. We haven’t been busy at all, to be honest. No more rogue Death Eaters, no more Dark Artifacts, nothing. Not unless you count the dragon egg smuggling and that was more an overseeing operation. Those stakeouts he got us sent on I swear were a load of bollocks. It was just Harry and I, sitting around eating day old sandwiches and drinking warm bottles of pumpkin juice. For two bloody days,” Ron explained. 

“He shuts down from everybody, you know that. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s burdening us,” Hermione said, with a sigh. 

“I know and how long is it going to take for him to see it is not burdening us in the slightest? We’ve known each other and have been best friends for over 12 years. What is it going to take, honestly?” Ron yelled. 

“If you find out an answer to that, please let us know. We've known Draco our entire lives and he still shuts us out,” A voice came from over Ron’s shoulder. Blaise Zabini looked just as frustrated as he sounded. Pansy was behind him and Ron and Hermione both greeted them and asked them to sit down. Pansy sat across from Hermione by the window, and Blaise across from Ron. 

“So, what do you reckon, eh? Just grab them and shove them in a closet together until they kiss and make up?” Blaise joked. 

“Yeah, and I would love to see how you are WITHOUT balls the next morning from our Draco, dear,” Pansy said, mockingly sweet.  
“Yeah, I would like to keep my bits intact mate, if it’s all the same to you.” Ron said, with a chuckle. It wasn’t as funny as it could be, considering what he knew Harry would do to him if they pulled that kind of stunt. 

“If we can all be serious!” Hermione scolded the men at the table. Pansy grinned as both men withered under her harsh stare. 

“You have to teach me that. Drinks first? I have a feeling we are going to need it. Thank Merlin I can still smoke in here,” Pansy said, waving the waitress over to their table. 

They ordered their drinks, and a plate of chips for Ron, and began discussing what they should do to help their friends. They were there for over an hour already, and they kept jumping back to the same point. 

“But Harry is as stubborn as they come. You know that!” Ron was munching on his fries, while Hermione nodded in agreement. 

“You think Draco isn’t? He painted my guest room pink because I told him not to. He actually convinced me it LOOKED GOOD. He was so set in his decision to irk my nerves that it actually happened!” Pansy argued. She reached over and stole a fry from Ron’s plate, with an exclamation of “OI!” from the redhead. “The point is, we have a week. What are we going to do?” Pansy asked the table. 

“A week to do what?” a voice asked, startling them all. Ron froze in his seat, before turning around and facing one of the men who they were JUST talking about. Ron tried to play it cool, though. Unsuccessfully. 

“Nothing, mate. Pansy is just asking our opinion on a cabin for holiday, you know. Ow!” he jerked from where Pansy kicked him under the table. 

“Sorry, it slipped,” Pansy said, through gritted teeth. “Glad to see you out in the real world, Potter.” She leaned back in her seat and pulled a cigarette out of its box and lit the tip of it with her wand. “You know, at least you GET out,” she added, blowing the smoke out as she talked. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, truly confused. He dragged a chair from another table and sat the head of their booth. He felt like he was being scrutinized already, and he had only just walked in. Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought. 

“Nothing.” Pansy muttered. 

“Good to see you, Potter. Been a while.” Blaise spoke up, trying to ease the tension a little. 

“Harry, it is so good to see you out!” Hermione said, happily. 

“Yeah, mate. Thought you were busy,” Ron said. 

“Well, I decided to be less busy. You’re right, Ron. I do need to get out more.” Harry said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The other four at the table saw right through it, however. 

Pansy leaned her elbows on the table, cigarette still between her fingers with smoke curling through the air. Blaise tensed up beside her. He knew that look she had on her face…

“So, Potter. Work going well?” she asked. 

“As good as ever, I guess,” Harry replied, with a shrug.

“Dating anyone?” 

“Er…” 

“That a ‘yes’?” Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, it’s not a yes! I am not dating.” 

“You want to?” 

“What the hell, Pans?” Blaise scolded her. 

“Hey, I am just being friendly,” Pansy said, feigning innocence. She took one final drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out. “You know Draco’s wedding is next week.” Blaise wanted to smack the daylights out of her at this very table. Ron’s eyes widened and Hermione gaped at her. Harry felt like his stomach was in knots. 

“Yeah, I know.” Harry replied in a small voice. 

“I hear you can’t make it,” Pansy said, in a mock hurt tone. 

“Pansy,” Blaise gritted out. 

“Yeah, I can’t leave work at the moment, I’m afraid.” Harry lied. 

“Bullshit,” Pansy quipped. 

“Parkinson!” Ron yelled. 

“What? You all can tiptoe around this for the rest of your lives, but that is not how you get results. Especially with these two dimwitted arseholes.” Pansy said, matter of fact. 

“You cannot just come out and say it like that!” Hermione argued. 

“Why the hell not? So we can all just sit here and pretend like everything is alright? So we can ignore the fact that Potter here is just as miserable as my best friend, and you all can just be okay with it? Come on!” Pansy exclaimed. Yeah, this wasn’t how this evening was supposed to go, Blaise thought, but he agreed with Pansy on this. For once…he nodded in agreement with her. 

“I don’t understand. I said I was fine, Ron. You were talking about me behind my back?” Harry asked in a small voice. He looked at Hermione for confirmation. She fiddled with her napkin, but couldn’t look at him. “How many times do I have to say leave it alone? Do you all need it in writing?” 

“Harry—“ Ron began. He felt terrible. All he wanted to do was help, and it was going to shit right before his eyes. 

“No, Ron. I’m tired of this. I said I was fine. Why won’t any of you just let it alone?” Harry asked them all.

“Because you and Draco both are fucking liars,” Pansy bit out. 

“What?” Harry asked, eyes wide. 

“You say you are fine, but you look like you haven’t slept in a week. Or a year. Or two…right? Not fully, anyway. You are skinnier, as is he, probably because you don’t eat like you’re supposed to. You throw yourself into work, just like he does, am I right? All under the ruse of doing a great job, but it’s for the distraction. You aren’t fooling any of us, you know, just like he isn’t. He can’t even keep up that famous Malfoy mask he loves so much up for a long period of time. You broke through it, remember?” Pansy was breathing heavy by the time she was finished. Blaise put an arm around his friend because she looked on the verge of tears. 

“Are you saying that our split was my fault?” Harry asked, in a dangerous voice. 

“Fuck,” Ron swore, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Are you saying it was?” Pansy asked. 

Harry slammed his fist down on the table and stood up suddenly, knocking the chair over in the process. “What are you saying?” 

Pansy stood up to meet his eyes. “Why the hell both of you insist on being so bloody miserable when you two were the happiest men in all of the United Kingdom!?” 

“You really want to know, Parkinson?” 

“Hell yes I want to know! All of us do!” 

“HE LEFT ME! THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR? He left me! I asked him to marry me and he fucking bolted. There, you satisfied now? All of you?” Harry screamed at them. He felt hot tears streaming down his face, as he looked at them all. Pansy and Blaise wore shocked expressions on their faces, while Ron held his head in his hands. 

“Harry…I am so sorry. We didn’t know,” Hermione said, lip quivering.

“No, you didn’t. I didn’t want anyone to know. The only one who does is Neville, because he listened to my drunken rambling one night at his and Luna’s place a year ago.” Harry explained. He sat down, suddenly feeling emptier than ever. He wiped his tears off his face with his sleeve and called the waitress over for a drink. He needed Firewhiskey and pronto. 

“Mate, I am so sorry.” Ron put in. He didn’t know what else to say. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t say anything. I don’t want your pity,” Harry said, as he threw back the drink the waitress brought him in one swallow. 

“It’s not pity, exactly.” Blaise tried to explain, but Harry waved him off. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. It’s over and done with. I have moved on, and obviously so has he, so what is the point in talking about it?” Harry asked them. 

“That’s just the thing, though. You haven’t and neither has he,” Pansy interjected. 

“How do you figure that? He’s marrying someone else!” Harry cried. 

“Doesn’t mean he loves her,” Blaise drawled. 

“What do you mean, he doesn't lo…oh no,” Harry’s eyes widened in realization. “He…didn’t. He didn’t. Tell me he fucking didn’t.” 

“He did. Family obligation, remember?” Blaise said, knocking back his own drink. Ron shook his head and Hermione grimaced at the same realization.

“He is making a mistake! He isn’t going to be happy!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Why do you think we all met here tonight, Potter? To exchange warm pleasantries and to reminisce about times shared in past? Come on, you’re brighter than that,” Pansy scoffed, lighting another cigarette. 

“Friendly outing,” Hermione corrected her. 

“Yeah, I can cut the ‘friendly’ tension with a knife,” Pansy said, with a snort. 

“Mate, we are sorry. We didn’t want this to be all bad, I swear. ‘Mione and I were worried about you and they were worried about Draco and we all worry about you both. That’s all. We just wanted to help.” Ron said, trying for a smile. 

“I know and I appreciate it. Just…this you all can’t help with. ‘Mione, no.” He stopped her with a hand up. “Before you say anything, you can’t. Not with this. I respect his decision,” Harry said, with a hint of closure. 

“What? Are you mad?” Blaise hollered over the noise of the pub. Some people turned to look at them for a second time that evening. 

“No, I just know what he wants to do now. He wants a family. How can he have that with me?” Harry asked. 

“You cannot be that thick, Potter. Think about this for a second; are you listening? He. Likes. Men. Period. Always has, always will. He never hid it from us at school, but he didn’t flaunt it either; not like he paraded around in a rainbow or anything. But, he never hid it from his parents, either. They even offered to rescind the marriage contract, but he refused. Do you think they would have offered to do that without the possibility of having an heir another way? For some strange reason, neither one of you think. Draco, one of the most intelligent people I know, didn’t think that maybe, just maybe there is a little thing called a fucking surrogate? Or hell, adoption? You both give to tons of charitable organizations, a few of which are set up to go DIRECTLY to orphanages. ” Pansy explained, a hint of annoyance in her tone. 

“But, how--?” Harry began. 

“He needs an heir, obviously. He doesn’t want to disappoint his parents in that. He doesn’t want the Malfoy line to end with him.” Blaise explained. Ron nodded in agreement, while Hermione and Harry listened carefully. “Pureblood custom dictates that they must be blood related, however that has tapered off over the years. Adoption became a way for purebloods to have an heir apparent. Mostly it was for parents who found out they were sterile and couldn’t have children on their own.” 

“Oh,” Harry said. 

“That’s all you have to say is ‘Oh?’” Pansy asked, eyebrows raised. 

“What else do you want me to say?” Harry asked, incredulous. 

“Oh, maybe something along the lines of “I’m going to Malfoy Manor right now and snogging the hell out of my man. Something like that,” Pansy huffed. Blaise pinched her lightly on the arm. She deflated a little. “Not good?” 

“Bit not good, yeah.” He replied, looking at Harry’s shocked face. Pansy shut up for the time being. 

“So, what are you going to do, Harry?” Ron asked. Hermione waited on baited breath for his answer. 

“Nothing. His decision, and engagement still stands,” Harry said, with a shrug. Pansy sighed and held her head in her hand. 

“Harry, maybe you could talk to him? Just once before the wedding?” Hermione suggested. 

“Absolutely not. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew where to find me.” Harry said, quickly. He knew there was no way in hell he would talk to him. Not now, knowing what could have been. Harry stood up from the table, unable to say anything else. His throat felt tight, and he needed air. “I’ll see you guys later.” 

Watching Harry’s retreating back, Hermione shook her head. “That went well as expected.” 

“Too true.” Blaise agreed. 

“What do we do now?” Ron asked. 

Pansy shook her head. “Nothing we can do, I guess. I said what I had to say, and so did you lot. For the most part, I think I took the lead on this one.” 

“You most certainly did, Pans.” Blaise teased. 

“I, for one, am tired of it. I didn’t really mean to explode like that, I just wanted what was best for Draco, and Merlin help me, Potter is it. But, if they are too stubborn to see it, then I guess we have no choice but to let it go,” Pansy sighed in defeat. 

“I think you’re right,” Hermione said sadly, Ron nodding in agreement. Blaise sighed and shook his head.

“Well, can’t say we didn’t try, right?” Blaise asked. 

“Nope, we sure as hell did.” Ron said. “Call it a night, love?” he asked, looking at his wife. Hermione checked her watch and it read only 9pm. 

“Might as well. I have to be up early tomorrow for a meeting. Goodnight, Blaise. Pansy. Thank you for a…well, it wasn’t exactly a lovely evening, was it? Thank you for the evening.” She said, pulling Ron out the door behind her, after they said their goodbyes. 

“She’s right. It sure was an evening,” Blaise said, draining his glass. “Can I crash at your place tonight? I’m not in the mood to deal with Mother tonight.”

“No problem. I just hope they both know what they are doing,” Pansy said, draining her own glass. 

“Yeah…me too,” Blaise said, standing up to go pay for their drinks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile…

Draco sipped at the wine chosen for the meal that evening, keeping his eyes down to his plate. He didn’t want to see the questions in his parents’ eyes for yet another night. He didn’t think he could keep lying to them, even though he wasn’t lying…much. He was just keeping information from them. That wasn’t the same…was it? 

“So how is work going dear?” he heard his mother ask. 

“Very well. Heightened security construction begins next week. They should have it up and running by the time I—we--get back from our honeymoon.” Draco explained. When he said the words ‘we’ and ‘honeymoon’, his heart clenched painfully. He hoped it didn’t show in his face. He began to cut into his steak, noticing it was severely overdone. It had none of the natural aroma that should have come with cooking the meat, either. He sighed and pushed it away. He knew how a steak should be made properly. It wasn’t the elves fault, they were getting up in age. 

“Something the matter, Draco?” Lucius asked, looking directly at him. 

“Nothing at all.” Draco answered. He began taking small bites of his potatoes, which were at least edible. 

“I meant with your steak.” Lucius inquired. “I can get the kitchens to make you another if you prefer.”

“No, no. They will just mess it up again,” Draco waved him off, taking another bite. He didn’t notice that Lucius had quirked a smile at his wife, before turning his attention back to his son. 

“How exactly did they mess it up? I just want to inform them how to make it properly next time. For guests and such, you know.” Lucius added, trying to keep his question casual.

“Well, first of all, the seasoning is quite bland, no salt and pepper which is the most basic to add. Adds a base of flavor, even if you don’t add other things, such as garlic and other herbs to it. Also, it is like a brick. It is so overdone, that I can’t even put my knife through it. I don’t know how hard it is to understand, but to butter the pan, add a hint of garlic, salt, pepper and sear the meat on both sides, letting the meat cook the rest of the way in the oven. Medium, at the very most. Well done is just ruining it.” Draco said all of this without missing a beat. He had not spoken about food this way in quite a long time, and he explained all of this to his Father without thinking about it. “Ahem. In a manner of speaking,” he added quickly. 

“No, I quite agree, son. You are absolutely right. You know, when you used to cook for us, I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a meal more. I quite miss them,” Narcissa said, with a kind smile for her son. Draco couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“Draco, you do have a gift. I have no idea where it came from because your mother and I cannot NOT burn toast, but you do. That chicken marsala?” Lucius said, looking at Narcissa, and she nodded her head in agreement. “Delicious.” 

“That was a recipe I wanted to try. But, I don’t get to cook much anymore. Work, you know.” Draco said, with a smile. 

“You should try to make time, dear, Even if it is for yourself. Ever since…well, ever since you moved back to the Manor, you haven’t been doing that enough. No harm in having a hobby.” Narcissa said, trying to sound offhand. She knew cooking and food was a lot more than a hobby for her son. The way his face practically glowed talking about a simple steak just now was proof of that. 

“Maybe I will, after the wedding and we get settled,” Draco said, finishing off his dinner. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. Partly due to his parents’ praise, and the other part was remembering the last meal he cooked in his own house. He couldn’t let those thoughts linger for long, because he would surely get upset. 

“If you’re sure,” Lucius said. 

“I’m sure, Father. Don’t worry. I have an idea. Since I have Sunday’s off from work, how about I cook for you both and…Astoria? Don’t want you to starve in my absence,” Draco tried to make light, but both of his parents saw right through it. 

“Whatever you want, darling. I would enjoy that. Wouldn’t we?” Narcissa asked her husband. 

“Of course we would.” Lucius replied. He continued eating his dinner, stealing glances at his son every now and again. He knew that Draco would have made a fantastic chef, and he was bored stiff at the bank. Ever since he and Harry split up, Draco had lost all sense of following his dreams. That was NOT what they all lived through a bloody war for, Lucius thought, bitterly. He wasn’t angry with his son, but he was confused. Even now, Draco could have been off studying under the best executive chefs in England, France and Italy, but he chooses to work in a job that doesn’t even challenge him. 

The three Malfoy’s made polite small talk, about work, the weather, and upcoming Quidditch matches. It was all very…cordial, Draco supposed. They were Malfoys, and they had manners, but usually around each other, they weren’t quite so formal. Draco missed the easy camaraderie he had with his Father, and the close relationship he had with his Mother. He hoped they weren’t disappointed with him for his life choices. He felt guilty at the way he had been shutting them out recently, but he didn't think he could handle the questions anymore. The 'whats and whys'. He picked at his tart that they were having for dessert, not feeling very hungry. 

Lucius decided enough was enough. He was going to have a talk with Draco, and now. “The tart was good, I’d say. Now, Draco if you would be so inclined to join me for a nightcap? I insist.” Lucius used his ‘I’m asking, but I am also telling you to do what I ask’ voice, and Draco nodded. He stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. 

“Goodnight, mum.” Draco murmured. 

“Love you, dragon. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.” Narcissa said, with a soft smile. Draco smiled back at her as best he could, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. What his Father wanted to talk about, he had absolutely no idea. He hadn’t felt this nervous in speaking with him since before they had ‘The Talk’. Oh sweet mother of Merlin, he wasn’t going to do a repeat of that, was he? Draco thought in horror. He was an adult, and didn’t need to go through that humiliation again.

He followed his Father into the study and sat down in the armchair he usually did, while Lucius poured drinks. While Draco was very confused as to the sudden nightcap idea, Lucius decided it was time once and for all to put something to rest. If nothing changed, than this would be the very last time the subject would be mentioned in this house. He pulled his wand from the cane he carried and tapped the bookshelf. Draco raised both of his eyebrows and his jaw dropped as Lucius pulled out a very expensive looking bottle of top shelf Scotch. 

“Your godfather gave me this the day you were born. I was saving it for a special occasion. As it is, I believe that we both will be in need of it this evening,” Lucius explained, as he opened the bottle and poured a glass for each of them. He handed one to his son, and cradled his in his hand. “To you, son,” he said, raising it to him. 

Draco hoped he smiled, but he couldn’t have been sure, so he covered it up with a sip. It was WAY stronger than he thought and tried not to let it show on his face, and coughed a little. 

“Good, yes? Alright, then. I need to discuss something with you. I know you may not like it, but I feel it needs to be done,” Lucius stated, matter of fact.

“Father, please. You had this talk with me when I was twelve. I already know all of this,” Draco practically pleaded through his words for him not to continue on this path. 

“What? Oh…no. No no. I am not discussing THAT, as it were, For Merlin’s sake, Draco.” Lucius couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up through his chest. 

Draco immediately relaxed with a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” 

“I am however going to speak with you about your upcoming marriage.” Lucius said, taking another sip of his drink. “May I be frank?” 

“When are you not?” Draco teased. 

“Serious, now. Draco…are you certain this is what you want?” Lucius asked. Draco stared at him. He was asking this now? A week from now he would be married, and he’s asking this now? Draco thought, with a hint of annoyance. To be fair, he had tried to ask before…

“Yes.” Draco answered. 

“Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure?” Lucius asked again. He would pressure this boy until he cracked. He didn’t care arse over tea kettle if it took all bloody night. 

“Why are you asking me this? I signed the bloody contract, didn’t I? I keep my word, written or otherwise. You taught me that,” Draco replied. 

“I know that. Which is why I am so surprised that you ended your previous relationship.” Lucius said, setting his glass down. He wanted to be prepared for an outburst from his son at the mere mention of Mr. Potter. 

“Father…” Draco warned. He did not want to hear this…not in the slightest. It was only out of respect that he didn’t walk out of the study yet, leaving his Father sit there alone. 

“Don’t ‘Father’ me. I do not want any of this ‘It didn’t work out’ or some other excuse from you. Those are child-like excuses, and correct me if I am wrong, but you are a grown man. I want a solid adult reason why you decided to marry Miss Greengrass all of a sudden. You made it quite plain that you were in love, son. Very much so, in fact. You lived together. You did EVERYTHING together. Hell, your mother and I barely saw you alone, except if Harry was working. Which, we didn’t have a problem with, but still I need a reason, Draco. Did he hurt you?” Lucius asked the last question carefully. He knew Harry would never have harmed Draco, but if he did, Lucius Malfoy would be out for blood, Savior of the Wizarding World or not. 

“No,” Draco murmured, gripping his glass so hard he thought it might break. He felt hot tears sting his eyes, but wouldn’t let them fall. 

“Was he seeing someone else?” 

“No,” 

“I cannot fathom then why exactly---“ 

“He asked me to marry him, Dad!” Draco exclaimed. He sat his glass down with shaking fingers, and held his head in his hands. “He asked me to marry him, and while I knew he loved me, and I loved him, we couldn’t give each other a family. I need an heir, remember? You have always said all of the Malfoy men have at least had one son or daughter to keep the blood line going. Harry wants kids! If you have missed the fact that I am a MAN, and so is he, we cannot give each other children. I released him from his promise and now I am keeping mine, as stated in the contract. I broke his damn heart in the process in all of this, and I’m even breaking my own. But, this way we both get what we want.” He finished speaking in a cold voice. Lucius knew his son was trying in vain to keep the mask he wore up, but was failing miserably. 

“Oh dear Merlin…You didn’t, Draco. You didn’t…Draco, look at me. Please?” Lucius pleaded with his son. His heart felt like it would shatter into a million pieces. All of this because Draco thought him and Harry couldn’t have a family? What a mess it all was, and he felt like he was to blame. 

“What?” Draco asked, raising his head up to meet his Father’s gaze. His eyes were burning and he was so tired. He wanted to sleep so he could just forget, if only for a little while. Nightmares couldn’t plague him anymore, since he had been on Dreamless Sleep for the last 2 years…

“You could have anything you want, you know that right? A family is included in that! How do you think witches and wizards have children if they cannot physically do so themselves?” Lucius asked. 

“Yes, I know how it works. I didn’t think we could do that. I thought for the line to continue, it has to be a blood relation.” Draco said, now beginning to feel his head spin.

“No. Not necessarily. Maybe a few decades ago, but not now. It’s the 21st century, after all. There are all kinds of ways for any couple to have a child, or children if they so desire. You…you really wanted to continue with this insane wedding to the Greengrass girl to have a family? For the Malfoy name to continue?” Lucius asked. 

“Yes. This way, I can do so, and it will continue a tradition. Also, now Harry is free to have the big family he always wanted. He wants four kids. Four! Could you imagine?” Draco chuckled weakly, remembering the late night conversation between Harry and himself. He let another tear slip out of his eyes at the memory. 

“Draco. You can have it all. You could be happy, with the man you love.” Lucius tried, but Draco shook his head. 

“It’s done. I will be married next week to Astoria,” Draco said, wiping his eyes. 

“But---what about your job? Do you really want to give up your dream of owning your own restaurant?” Lucius asked. He was pulling for short wands here, but he felt like he was losing this battle. 

“That was a dream of a child. I have grown up and accepted reality.” Draco said, reaching for the last swallow of Scotch in his glass and draining it. 

“Thank you for the drink, and I will see you in the morning. I’m afraid I must bid you good night, Father,” and he walked out of the study, letting the door slam behind him.

“Draco, come on.” Lucius tried. Whenever his son pulled out the formal talk, he knew he had lost. “Damn it!” He hated admitting defeat. However, he knew once his son’s mind was made up on something, there was no convincing him one way or the other. He sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. He knew he was frustrated if he was doing that. He just didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, but now he understood why they split in the first place. 

“Trouble, dear? I just saw Draco and he looked upset.” He heard his wife’s voice and silently thanked every deity in existence, and Merlin himself, for this woman. He reached out to her and she sat on his lap, but only the one leg, as to not aggravate his bad knee. “Oh, no. What happened?” 

“He finally told me what happened. Why they split,” Lucius began, and he relayed the entire conversation back to her. Tears were forming in her eyes when he was finished. “Cissy?” 

“Why didn’t he say something to us? We could have fixed this! We wouldn’t have even had to fix it, if we would have known!” she cried, and laid her head on his shoulder. “What do we do?” 

“Nothing we can do. He is determined to see this through,” Lucius said, sadly. 

Narcissa sighed. “I hate feeling so helpless,” 

“So do I, Cissy. So do I.” Lucius agreed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A week later, after ‘The Leaky Incident’, as Ron took to calling it, things went back to the way they were with Harry and his friends. Pansy and Blaise even sent a basket full of his favorite treats from Honeydukes to apologize for it. He had laughed at the delivery boy bringing it inside his office, and trying in vain to set it on his desk. He was currently munching on a chocolate bar when Ron poked his head inside the office. 

“Alright?” the redhead asked him. 

“Not bad. Just finishing up. No more paperwork until Monday, thank Merlin. Going out tonight?” Harry inquired. He felt like he and his friends needed some kind of re-do of the night that they were all at The Leaky last. He didn’t want there to be any ill feelings between any of them. They were back to normal, somewhat, but Ron and Hermione had been walking on eggshells around him ever since, and it was bothering him to no end.

“Um…no mate. Remember? Tomorrow is the…well, Hermione and I are going to—“ 

“Oh, right. I guess I’ll see a film, or something. Haven’t done that in a while. See you later,” Harry said, more cheerfully than he felt. He brushed past his stuttering best friend, and quickly made his way home. The wedding, he thought as he collapsed on his bed, after shedding his work robes. Of course, how could I have forgotten? He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He knew it was silly, but he kept the invitation he received a few months ago under his pillow. He reached under and grabbed it, just like the many times before now and read it. He always chuckled at how formal it sounded. He knew Draco wouldn’t have let it be this formal, if it were…well, he knew Draco wouldn’t have had a lot of say in the planning. 

Flashback: 

“You want Snitches on your wedding invitations, Harry? How tacky,” Draco teased him. 

“Oi! You want dragons!” Harry shot back. 

“Dragons are majestic creatures!”

“Snitches are awesome!”

“You also wanted “He’s a Keeper,” on them. In case you forgotten, I was a Seeker, as were you.” Draco said, with a laugh. Harry hit him with a pillow. “I am just pointing out the fact that you have dreadful taste, Potter,” 

“I didn’t when I picked you,” Harry said, with a sly grin and crawling up to straddle Draco’s lap. 

“Aw, that’s good.” Draco replied, nuzzling into Harry’s neck. “You think that will get you lucky?” 

“I never dreamed I would get this lucky,” Harry murmured, lifting Draco’s chin up to meet him and kissing him sweetly. 

“You are full of the one liners tonight, aren’t you?” Draco murmured. 

“Ah, you bring it out in me, love,” Harry teased him.

END OF FLASHBACK

 

Harry pulled himself out of the memory, realizing he had tears streaming down his face. He missed Draco so much it hurt. Draco was his other half; the one who kept him dressing, sleeping and eating well. The one who looked out for his well-being and made sure he was safe, loved and happy. Then…he had gone and screwed it all up by asking Draco to marry him. Why had he been so stupid? They were perfectly happy the way they had been going, so why did he think anything had to change? Harry let out a groan of frustration. All he wanted was to show the world that Draco Lucius Malfoy was HIS. But, Harry thought, wasn’t he already? Harry couldn’t help but think this way if he didn’t do SOMETHING to take his mind off of it, so he got up and wandered the house for a bit, looking for things to tidy. As always, he came up with not much, because Kreacher had been keeping the place in top shape. 

Sighing, he put on his shoes and jacket, and went out for a walk. He made it to a nearby park, where he watched a few school age children play with their parents. His heart tugged in his chest at the sight with emotion. Emotions involving missing his own parents, how close he got to Lucius and Narcissa. Hell, Lucius even joked to call him ‘Dad’ once, Harry thought with a wry smile. Emotions on wanting children of his own. Ever since he was little, all he wanted was a family. The Dursley’s weren’t even close to his real family, blood relation or not. The Weasley’s and his friends he considered family…but, there was something about having a family of his very own. He told Ron he envied him during their last year at Hogwarts, and he was surprised his best friend didn’t pass out from the shock. Harry had always envied him in that way. Fame and glory didn’t go very far, and perhaps that’s why he felt so lonely after the war. Then, he met Draco Malfoy again in their 8th year at Hogwarts. Harry blinked tears that had formed in his eyes. He began to feel angry at himself for thinking like this again, considering he had gotten out of the house to NOT think about Draco at all.  
He got up in a huff and continued walking. By the time dusk came around, he had made his way to a local pub, Muggle of course, but with a decent crowd. Here, at least, he didn’t have to hide his scar with his hair to not get mobbed, and nobody would notice The Savior getting completely sloshed. That was his plan. Drown it out, Harry thought, bitterly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours had gone by and he was currently singing to classic rock songs on the jukebox with the bloke he met there, off key and terrible but fun anyway. He lost count on how many drinks he had had, but what did it matter? He didn’t work tomorrow and there wasn’t anywhere he needed to be. 

“Harry?” a voice rousing him out of his thoughts asked. 

“Yeah? What did you say your name was again?” Harry asked…well more slurred, but he thought it sounded alright. 

“Bryan. Eh, mate? I think you’ve had enough,” the bloke, er, Bryan, said with a laugh. He tried taking the drink out of Harry’s hands, but wouldn’t relinquish it. 

“No! That’s mine! Pick another song, will you?” Harry yelled, as he threw back the last bit of his drink. As Bryan walked toward the jukebox shaking his head, Harry muttered, “Why do people always want to take my stuff? I’m sick of people taking my stuff,” 

“What’s that?” Bryan asked, upon his return. 

“S’ nothin’.” 

“You alright?” 

“Never better!” Harry exclaimed in his false cheery voice. Bryan raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything. “Another drink!” Harry proclaimed, slapping his hand on the bar. 

“You are gonna be in a right state tomorrow, my friend,” Bryan commented. 

“So? S’not like I have anywhere to GO tomorrow. No work, nothin’ like that. Not gettin’ married, like HE is…I don’ have to look all…pressed and dressed for it, do I?” Harry was babbling he knew, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to care. 

“No, I suppose not,” Bryan answered. He fiddled with the straw in his empty glass, just listening. Clearly, this man had stuff on his chest and his friends always told him he was a good listener. 

“A big wedding, it is. It has to be, knowing HIM. But, that wasn’t him, you know? He is all posh and stuff if you don’t get a closer look at him, but all this fancy-schmancy stuff? It’s not him. He likes simple. She is the posh, ridiculous one, I’m bettin’ ya.” 

“Who?” Bryan was interested, now. He wanted to know who Harry was talking about. Must be a jilted lover…he thought. 

“My ex. He was…is…wonderful. S’ marryin’ someone else.” 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” 

“My own fault, it was. I asked him to marry me. I knew it was too good to be true. When has anythin’ in my life been simple?” Harry cried, with his head starting to swim. “I need some water. Yeah…water good,” Bryan waved down the bartender for a glass, and she brought it to them immediately. Harry took a sip, relishing the cool feel of it down his throat. “Thanks,” 

“No problem,” 

“M’ sorry for layin’ all this on ya. I’m sure you have better places to be than with a guy whinin’,” 

“You sounded like you have been thinking about this a lot. You needed to vent to someone, and hey! What better person than a random guy in a bar?” Bryan joked. Bryan wasn’t exactly ‘random’. He knew who Harry was, of course. Bryan McDougal was a fifth year Ravenclaw when the Battle happened. He was two years younger than Harry, so he wasn’t surprised he didn’t recognize him. 

Harry tried to laugh, but it came out as a hiccup. “I think I should go home. Which is,” he tried to point, but for some reason his arm wasn’t cooperating. So, he nodded his head in some form of direction. “That way,” 

“Alright. Well, I can walk you home, if you want. Just so you don’t trip up, yeah?” Bryan suggested. Harry nodded, so Bryan settled up the tab and walked Harry outside, his arm slung around his shoulders. Once outside, and without any muggles around, he decided to say who he was. “You have grown up a lot since Hogwarts. Heavier than you look,” 

Harry spluttered. “W-what?” 

Bryan smirked. “Yeah, I went to school with you. Well, not with you exactly, I was a Ravenclaw. But, I was in 5th year when everything happened.” 

“B—but I thought you were a Muggle!” 

“Nope,” 

“Shit,” 

“Harry, if you think for one second that I am going to spill this to the press, than I think you have me all backwards. Listen, you needed this tonight, obviously. Another thing is, that rag can go to hell for all I care.” Bryan said, with finality. Harry smiled weakly at him. 

“Thanks,” he said.

“Sure. Now, home?” 

“Burrow.” 

“What?” 

“The Burrow. That’s where I’m going,” 

“Alright. You’re gonna Side-Along with me, so DO NOT let go. I mean it. While I am not going to the papers, someone will wring my neck if I would be responsible for The Golden Boy getting Splinched.” Bryan told him. Harry chuckled and nodded. Harry tightened the grip on his shoulder and Bryan wrapped his hand around his waist, and Apparated away. He had never been to the Burrow before, whatever that was, but he assumed he was there. He noticed a sign that said ‘Ottery St Catchpole’ and turned to Harry for confirmation. 

“This is it,” Harry confirmed, now half asleep on his shoulder. 

“Alright, well, let’s go in, shall we?” Bryan suggested, leading Harry toward the house at the end of the lane.

“I hope I don’t wake them.” Harry murmured against Bryan’s shoulder.

“Well, I just knocked against the wards, so someone should be down in a minute,” Bryan said, stowing his wand away in his pocket. Not even five minutes later, a woman with curly red hair, and a kind face was peering out of the door. 

“What on—Harry! What happened?” The woman was surprised to say the least. Bryan thought Harry had said this was home. 

“Sorry to disturb, ma’am. Harry said this was where he was going, so I brought him here. He had a bit too much to drink tonight. Just needs to sleep it off,” Bryan explained. 

“And you are?” she asked. Oh, this must be Ron Weasley’s mother! Bryan thought. Why did he want me to bring him here? Does he live here? Too many questions for this time of night...

“Bryan McDougal, ma’am. I went to school with Harry, here. I believe with your son and daughter as well. I remember you from the platform. Nice to see you again,” 

“Alright. Well, as long as Harry trusts you, you’re ok. Bring him in here, and we’ll get him settled. He’s pretty much asleep anyway, isn’t he?” Molly fussed over Harry to the couch once they got inside, and removed his shoes and glasses. Harry didn’t seem to notice, only made a grunt and turned over. 

“Thank you for bringing him here. He lives alone and if he gets sick, he will need someone there to look after him.” Molly explained. Well, that answered that question, doesn’t it? Bryan thought. 

“You’re welcome Mrs. Weasley. Now, I shall take my leave. Tell Harry it was a pleasure seeing him tonight and not to worry. Things will get better,” Bryan said, turning to walk out the door. He took one last look at Harry and smiled. He hoped he wouldn’t encounter Harry again like that, but in a friendlier and sober setting. 

“I’ll be sure to pass it along,” Molly said, confused. She waved to their visitor as he left. “What a night.” She pulled her wand out of her apron pocket and cast a Tempus Charm. It was one in the bloody morning! Sighing, she walked over and covered Harry up with a blanket. She had always looked at Harry as a son, and loved him dearly. What made him want to drink himself silly like this? Molly wondered. 

“Draco’s wedding is tomorrow.” A voice said, making Molly start. 

“Ginny! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Molly scolded in a harsh whisper. 

“Sorry. But, if you’re wondering why he’s passed out drunk, that’s why.” Ginny mused aloud. 

“Oh,” 

“Yeah,” 

“Oh, dear,” 

“I was meaning to talk to him anyway before I go on the Harpies tour. I was going to stop by his place tomorrow,” Ginny explained. 

‘Be nice, Ginny. He’s going through something terrible,” Molly warned. “You going to back to bed?” 

“I’ll be up in a minute. Dean’s snores woke me up,” Ginny said, with a soft laugh. 

“You knew that before you agreed to marry him,” Molly teased. 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Goodnight, mum,” Ginny said, kissing her mother on the cheek. 

“Goodnight, dear,” Molly whispered, and walked back upstairs to get some more sleep before she had to wake Arthur for work.

Ginny sat down on the huge recliner that sat across from the sofa Harry was currently sleeping on. She shook her head as a million thoughts rolled around in her head. Ron had relayed the whole debacle to her the day after they all had their ‘discussion’ at the Leaky in an Owl. She couldn’t believe how stupid these two were! She had made Harry promise that he would look out for him and his own happiness, yet here he was, miserable…AGAIN. She wasn’t angry with him…much. He had always been a self-sacrificing guy, but to this extent? They had broken up mutually, and she had gone on to date, and eventually get engaged to Dean Thomas. He went on to date and until two years ago, thought he would marry, Draco. She had thought he was happy, for Merlin’s sake. For once, Harry Potter had what he wanted and no one could take it from him. Well, that went down the drain, didn’t it? She thought. She was going to have a serious talk with him in the morning, hangover be damned. Luckily, she brought her wand down with her, so she transfigured one of the stools in the room into a bucket, in case he got sick. 

“Do not think you’re getting out of talking to ME, Harry James Potter,” Ginny whispered, before she curled up into the chair and fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry woke up feeling like death warmed up. No, correction. He HAD died before and knew this was worse. His head throbbed and the damn sun shone directly into his eyes. His stomach was flipping over in a way that he knew he would be sick if it didn’t stop soon. 

“Argh…” he groaned as he tried to sit up. As soon as he made that move, he realized he wasn’t in his own bed. He sat up gingerly, and immediately recognized the couch. “Oh…oh my god,” he muttered in horror. 

“Morning!” a shrill voice came piercing into the living room. “Breakfast!”

“Not so loud!” Harry yelled, covering his ears. He looked up and saw Ginny Weasley standing above him with a mug and a plate of food. The smell, while usually delicious, made his stomach churn all over again. 

“Aww, headache?” Ginny teased as she sat down across from him. 

“The worst. You don’t have any hangover potion, do you?” Harry asked her, hopefully. 

“I can get Dean to get it. Dean! Hangover potion, please? In your black bag!” Ginny called into the kitchen. She sat the plate in front of him. Harry groaned again and laid back down. “No, mum said you have to drink this and eat this food. Right now. Come on!” 

“Gin, if I even look at food right now, I will be sick.” Harry muttered. Dean chose then to come back in the living room, with a vial of purple liquid. “Tell me that’s it,” 

“Yeah, mate. Here.” Dean said, with a laugh handing it to him. “I’m not as mean as my lovely lady here,” 

“I am not mean!” 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, love. Molly needs my help in the kitchen. Feel better, Harry,” Dean said, and kissed Ginny on the cheek before exiting the room. Harry uncorked the vial and downed its contents immediately. The effects of the potion took hold quickly, and he sighed with relief as the pounding in his head subsided. 

“Ah. That’s better. Is that tea or coffee?” Harry asked Ginny. 

“Coffee. I know you, Harry. Extra strong. It should blacken your teeth and rot your stomach,” Ginny teased him and handed over the mug.

“Bless you,” Harry said, taking a sip. 

“So,”

“So…what?”

“What’s up?” she asked, plainly. 

“I’m drinking coffee.” 

“You know what I mean, Harry. Why did some strange bloke drop you off here in the middle of the night, while you were drunk off your arse?” 

“Jumping right in it, are we?” Harry tried to joke, but his heart just wasn’t in it. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t remember coming here at all. Nor some strange bloke…

“Well?” Ginny asked, impatient. 

“I don’t remember, Gin, honest. I d—“ 

“Bryan…his name was Bryan.” 

“Bryan? Who?” Harry asked, and some things came flooding back. The park, the bar…the drinking. He remembered that bit. Then a face swam into his vision. Must be the Bryan bloke she was referring to. 

“Oh…I met him in the bar last night. He brought me here?” he asked. 

“Yeah. He said you asked to be brought here.” 

“Well, I suppose I have always thought of this place as home. I didn’t really relish the fact of going home alone to Grimmauld Place.” Harry said, with a shrug.

“I’m always up for seeing you, as is Mum and Dad, but did it have to be when you were drunk and passed out?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’ll apologize to them,” Harry said, sheepishly. 

“It’s not about that, and you know it. Look, you know we are all worried about you. Me? I am more pissed at you than anything else,” Ginny began. 

“What? Why?” Harry asked, surprised. 

“What do you mean why? Harry, look at yourself! Hungover, just waking up on our couch, clearly miserable, and not telling anyone why. And when you’re not doing that, you are throwing yourself into work, barely leaving the office, unless Ron makes you. Then, when you do decide to tell someone, it is a complete stranger! Beyond that, you promised me, Harry. You promised that you were going to be happy. Why in Merlin’s name are you so insistent on being so miserable? You were happy!” Ginny was yelling by then, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t let one of her dearest friends throw his life away. 

“He is marrying someone else, Ginny,” Harry said in a small voice.

“Oh yeah. The bint from the Greengrass estate? He will be bored in 2.5 seconds and you know it." Ginny scoffed. "You forget I went to school with him too,” 

“She can give him what he wants,” 

“So can you! Ron told me everything and even if Ron and Hermione are hell bent on coddling you, just to make you feel better, then bully for them. I, however, am not. You need someone to tell you to get off your arse and go get what is yours!” Ginny exclaimed. Harry looked at his friend. Her face was as red as her hair, and she had an angry look on her face. 

“But—“

“No buts! Do you love him, Harry?” 

“You know I do,” 

“Say it.” 

“What?” Harry was confused now. 

“Say it, damn it!” Ginny couldn’t believe how thick Harry could be sometimes. 

“I love Draco! There, you happy?” Harry yelled back at her, standing up. 

Ginny grinned. There was the Harry Potter fire that we all have been missing, she thought. “Is that all?” 

“He is my heart and my soul and I cannot live without him!” Once Harry started, he couldn’t seem to stop saying these things. 

“And?” 

“He is mine.” Harry said, with a smile. 

“So? What are you going to do?” Ginny asked, knowing what the answer was. 

“I need to make a trip home. Then, I have somewhere to be,” Harry answered her. He bent to kiss her on the cheek, and slipped his shoes on. Walking toward the door, he turned back around. “Hey, Gin?” 

“Yes?” Ginny had the look of pure innocence on her face that made Harry grin widely back at her. 

“Thanks,” 

“No problem,” Ginny smiled to herself as she watched Harry leave, Ha, just took the right person to get his head out his arse, as usual, she thought fondly.

 

Harry hadn’t felt so light in years. He had said out loud how much Draco meant to him and it felt wonderful. He Apparated on the spot and arrived back to Grimmauld place. He looked at the clock on the wall, and it read 9am. He only had 2 hours to get ready. He ran upstairs, yelling out for Kreacher. “Kreacher? I need my good clothes!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco couldn’t believe it was today. In just under an hour, he would be married. He smoothed his robes down, for what it seemed like the 100th time, even though he knew they were pressed to perfection. What he couldn’t get over was the color. Silver…while he usually looked nice in something with silver trim, a whole robe in shimmering silver was too much. But, it wasn’t like he had a say in it anyway. He sat down to put on his shoes, when a knock came on the door to his room. 

“Who is it?” he called, slipping one on. 

“Mum!” Narcissa called through the door. He smiled. 

“Thank Merlin. If it was yet another tailor wanting to check this robe, I would have hexed him,” Draco muttered, tying the laces to his shoe. He heard his Mother laugh. “What?” 

“You’re wearing your Converses?” Narcissa asked, eyes twinkling with mirth. "Those are so worn out." 

“Yes. It is a final act of rebellion,” Draco joked, even though his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Against whom, dear?” 

“No one in particular. Just want to at least be somewhat comfortable. These robes are way too high in the collar, but Astoria insisted for some reason, so what could I do? Part of some tradition in her family.” Draco explained, reaching to adjust the collar in question for what seemed like the 1000th time that morning.

“Won’t she be angry at the shoe choice?” 

“Do I give a damn if she is? It's my wedding too. Besides, the robes should cover them, for the most part.” Draco said. He gestured for his mother to sit down. “Anything the matter?”

“Are you alright, my dragon?” 

“Suppose so. Why?” 

“You nervous at all?” Narcissa asked. 

“Not too. It’s just a ceremony, and we rehearsed last night.” Draco said, matter of fact. 

“I remember before my wedding to your Father, I was so nervous. I mean, I was going to spend the rest of my life with one man. I kept thinking, ‘This is it. This is it for life.’ But, I found myself thinking also, how very safe I felt. I knew your Father felt the same way. If I wasn’t with him, I was thinking about him.” Narcissa was talking about her memories and got swept away in the feelings of happiness they brought her. “You know, my mother never knew it, but after she went to bed, the week before my wedding, I would go upstairs and try on my dress, my tiara and my gloves. I knew I was silly, but I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Malfoy.” 

“Sounds like you and Father loved each other a lot, even back then,” Draco mused, a tear coming to his eye. 

“Oh, yes. We knew we had found each other, and there would never be anyone else. Why I am telling you this, Draco, is because, I want to make sure you and Astoria feel that way about each other,” 

“Mum?” 

“Do you?” 

Draco couldn’t find his voice, and he shook his head. Narcissa sighed. 

“Dragon, you should only marry for love. Not for any other reason.” 

“I gave my word,” 

“Words can be rescinded.” 

“Not in this capacity,” Draco said. 

“But—“ 

“Mum, thank you for coming to check up on me, but I have to finish getting ready. Also, you want to make sure Father and Lord Greengrass don’t get too harsh with each other. You know Father cannot stand the man,” Draco said, changing the subject. He had to keep a clam, cool mask up today or he would lose it. He didn’t want to think about the ‘could’ve, would’ve, should’ve’ today. He couldn’t think about it, or else he wouldn’t go through with the wedding at all. Draco had the strong feeling to run since two nights ago, but he had locked himself up in his room, unless he had to come out for meals, or the rehearsal last night. Astoria barely uttered two words to him, and didn’t look in his direction at all. Clearly, she wasn’t happy with the match, either. However, this is how it was. No use in trying to change it now. 

“I’ll be out there in the ballroom if you need me. Just have an elf come and fetch me, okay?” Narcissa said, with a kind smile.

“Alright, mum. See you in a little while,” Draco told her. He took a deep breath and let it out, looking at himself in his mirror. “I can do this,” he said to his reflection. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, dear,” it wheezed back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another 30 minutes past, until it was 15 minutes before 11am. Draco was shaking; he couldn’t believe this was it. That feeling to run was back, but he clenched his hands into fists and stayed where he was. He jumped at the knock on his door. 

“Draco? It’s time, son,” he heard his Father say. 

“Ok. I’m coming,” Draco drawled out, and made his way to the door. When he opened it, his Father met him and tried to smile for his sake. “Well? Let’s go,” Draco said, making his way down the long staircase. All of the guests were already seated in the ballroom of the manor, and looked up to see Draco making his descent. He heard hushed whispers and glances thrown his way, but none of them were ill meant. He did make a lazy sweep around to see who all was there, and he noticed Pansy sitting in the front row, next to his mother. Of course she would wear the lowest cut dress she owned, Draco thought, fondly. Pansy smiled and winked at him. He tried to smile back, but it just wouldn’t come. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of red, and turned to see Ron and Hermione sitting a few rows back on his side. His heart clenched painfully. He knew Harry wouldn’t come here today. He knew that he couldn’t watch Harry marry someone else, either, so why expect it of him? Still, it would have helped to see Harry’s face…just for a moment. He nodded in the Weasley’s direction, hoping to say his thanks for coming. He finally reached the altar, where Blaise, in robes a shade darker silver than his own, was waiting for him. He stood next to him, while soft music played in the background. 

“Alright?” he heard Blaise whisper. 

“Ask me after,” Draco said, honestly. 

“Will do. I am here for you, my friend.” 

“Good, because I feel like I am going to bolt out of here so it is your job to make sure I stay put,” 

“Noted.” Blaise answered. 

“I don’t even think I know all of these people. Father does, surely, but I sure as hell don’t.” Draco mused.

“I know that they are all uptight and sniveling sycophants, if that’s what you’re referring to, but no. I don’t know them either.” Blaise quipped, with a smirk. Draco almost snorted, but remembered he had to keep a straight face. He appreciated Blaise having a sense of humor, especially today. It helped him keep balanced…as much as he could be. 

Draco looked at his mother and father, sitting side by side, her hand gripped tight in his. Draco smiled. That’s what he wanted. He wanted that ‘I cannot bear to be without you, and please be in my life for the rest of mine’ kind of love. He saw how his parents had fought side by side, protecting each other during the War. Harry went on to do the same for him, along with everyone else. He had it…he did have it, and it fell away. Draco was angry with himself as he stood there. Why am I doing this? Contract or no, this is wrong! He thought. Too late now, he thought sadly. 

He was standing up at the altar, shifting from foot to foot, while Blaise picked at his fingernails and whistled along with the music. Draco was getting annoyed with the music, to be honest. About a half hour went by, and still no sign of Astoria. He wondered why they were taking so long to start. 

“This is music you eat brunch to, not to play at a wedding. Shouldn’t have this started by now anyway?” Draco whispered to Blaise. He wanted to get this whole bloody mess over with. 

“Yeah. Hang on, let me go ask Lucius what is going on. Maybe he knows something,” Draco watched him step down from the raised platform where the altar was, and go speak with his father. He furrowed his brow, when Lucius raised his eyebrows at Blaise’s supposed inquiry. He then nodded and stood up and disappeared behind the ballroom doors. 

“What the hell?” Draco whispered to himself. How long does this have to be drawn out? At least at the reception I can have a bloody drink, for Merlin’s sake, he thought. He looked around the room, and noticed the decorations for the first time. It was very…white. All around there were white roses, baby’s breath, and other flowers he didn’t know the name of. No lilies, he had put his foot down on that one. No lilies…that was Harry’s flower. Lots of small candles hung in the air, along with all the candelabras lit, shimmering a soft glow on the entire room, and everyone in it. It did look magnificent, he had to admit. Astoria really outdid herself, and he could at least appreciate that. The banners that hung had the Malfoy crest and the Greengrass crest side by side, and when they said their vows, they would intertwine into one, sealing the match. He shivered at the thought. 

Blaise came back up to the platform after talking with Pansy, and shook his head. 

“Well?” Draco asked. 

“Can’t find the bride apparently, according to Pansy,” Blaise said, with a shrug. 

“What?!” Draco exclaimed. How dare she? I shouldn’t be the only one standing up here uncomfortable! Draco thought, incredulously. 

“Don’t worry. She probably had a dress crisis or something. Her mother is trying to find her as we speak,”  
“Yes. It will be alright,” Draco tried to be happy about that. He really did…but he couldn’t help wonder where she had gotten to. 

All of a sudden, the soft music that had been playing stopped. Draco raised an eyebrow at Blaise, but he looked as confused as he did. “They couldn’t have found her already?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Then, music came floating through the rooms. A song he would know anywhere. It was his favorite song, and had been for the last couple of years. He hadn’t listened to it since Harry. But…he was still confused. He didn’t understand why THAT song would be playing. I Want to Know What Love Is by Foreigner was now blaring in the room, and he looked down at his Mother. She looked confused as well and shook her head. His Father was still helping in the search for the bride, so he probably didn’t even know that muggle rock music was playing in his ballroom. He smirked at the thought. However, his thoughts turned sad, as he remembered why he loved this song so much. He and Harry had danced to it at Ron and Hermione’s engagement party, when they both were too tipsy to care. It had been their song ever since, and Harry would sing it to Draco off key and wonderful. 

“What is with the music? Did you do this?” Draco asked Blaise, turning to face him. 

“Wasn’t me, and judging by the look on Pans’ face, it wasn’t her, either,” Blaise replied, pointing to Pansy. She had a puzzled look on her face, but was clearly trying not to laugh at all the stuffy pureblood wizards wondering about the song playing, and making their complaints about the noise known. 

“Then who--?” Draco began and then cut off, by his mouth dropping open at the sight before him.

Harry Potter had burst the doors to the ballroom open, and was currently walking down the aisle. Straight toward Draco, who hadn’t had the conscious thought to stop gaping. Draco’s heart felt like it would beat out of his chest, with every emotion swirling inside him, he couldn’t hear the excited murmuring and Hermione’s gasp, Ron’s and Blaise’s whoops and Pansy’s wolf whistle. By the time Harry had reached Draco, Draco (most definitely did NOT) almost fainted. Harry, and all his heroic tendencies, swept in and caught Draco before he could fall. 

“Are you real? Or am I imagining this?” Draco whispered, looking into Harry’s bright green eyes. Harry smiled. 

“Real. Can I sweep you off your feet?” Harry joked, as he gripped Draco’s waist tighter. 

“You were always so lame, Potter,” Draco teased him.

“But, you love me,” Harry said, with a grin. 

“Dear Merlin, yes,” Draco moaned, and Harry did what he had been wanting him to do since he had first laid eyes on him a few moments ago; Harry FINALLY kissed him. All the noise, the people, the music, the ballroom even, fell away. It was nothing but him and Harry, in their own world, sparks flying like they always did. Draco tried to pour every amount of love, emotion, and deep sorrow he had felt in the past two years into that kiss, and Harry was doing the same. On Harry’s part, he finally had his world back. He had Draco in his arms and everything would be alright. Nothing could ever tear them apart again. Of course, the battle for dominance in the kiss had become too heated in this kind of setting, so Harry was the first one to break the kiss, much too Draco’s dismay.

When they finally broke apart, Harry rested his head against Draco’s. “No more being apart?” 

“Never again, Potter.” Draco said, voice husky. But, he felt like he was forgetting something…he stood up straight, but still not letting go of Harry. He adjusted his robes. His silver robes…his WEDDING robes! Oh, Merlin! “Wait! Astoria! What happened to her?” 

“I can answer that,” Lucius came up to the two men, and nodded to Harry. He didn’t look like he was surprised at Harry to be there at all. “We never found her. Her dressing room was empty, with her dress still hanging on the wall.”

“What?” Draco asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

“I’m assuming she got cold feet. Doesn’t look like she’s the only one either,” Lucius commented, but had a smirk on his face. “Hello, Harry. Good to see you,” 

“I’m sorry for crashing like this, sir.” Harry said, a blush rising on his cheeks. 

“Since when do you call me ‘sir’? You haven’t called me that since you were twelve. It’s weird,” Lucius asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Since…now?” Harry offered, looking to Draco for help, and all he got was a smirk. 

“Well, don’t. But, I am glad you’re here.” Lucius said, smiling. He offered his hand for Harry to shake. Harry grinned and shook it. “Shall I inform everyone they can leave now?” 

“Father, I—“ Draco began. He felt terrible for them having to go through all of this wedding planning for nothing. 

Lucius held up a hand to stop him. “Are you happy?” 

“Delirious,” Draco answered with a smile, taking a glance at Harry. 

“Good. That’s all I wanted for you. I don’t care about anything else, and neither does your mother. Son, if you can offer to share your life to someone else, and they offer you theirs in return, that is the greatest gift anyone can ever ask for or receive. I advise you to take it and run with it.” Lucius said, with a smile. Draco couldn’t resist. He dislodged himself from Harry for a moment to hug his Father. 

“Ooof!” Lucius let out a huff and hugged his son tightly. 

“Thanks Dad,” Draco whispered. 

“You’re welcome,” Lucius said, with a smile. Let me go get all these stuffy people out of my house. By the way, I think you have some visitors,” 

“Harry! Draco!” they heard Ron say from behind Lucius. 

“I’ll see you both later,” Lucius said, and swept off to join his wife. Draco smiled in their direction, while his mother blew him a kiss. He nodded and turned toward the hoard of friends wanting, no doubt, an explanation. 

“What’s this then?” Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. He had a grin on his face, though. Hermione had one to match his own, looking at his and Harry’s joined hands. 

“Weasley, your observation skills never fail to amaze me. How did you become an Auror again?” Draco teased him. 

“I mean, Malfoy, how did Harry end up crashing your wedding?” Ron replied. 

“Well, I talked to Ginny this morning—long story—and I knew I couldn’t let you do this, contract or no.” Harry said to Draco. Draco’s eyes went wide for a second then returned to normal. “I love you and no one will take you away from me again.” 

“Possessive bastard,” Draco joked, squeezing Harry’s hand. 

“Damn right,” Harry leaned in and kissed Draco’s cheek. Draco had the conscious mind to control his blush, but only barely. 

“Told you, Potter,” Pansy said, directly to Harry. She was wearing a smirk and trying to hold back her laughter. 

“Oi, shut up!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Told him what?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend. 

“Oh, that basically you both needed to get your heads out of your arses and just be together. Oh, and the fact that you CAN have a family together. I did find time to mention that,” Pansy explained to Draco, with a smile. 

“You always did get right to the point, didn’t you?” Draco asked her. 

“Oh, that she does,” Hermione piped in, with a smile. 

“So…what now?” Harry asked Draco. 

“Well, there’s an open bar out in the garden for the reception…” he began, but was cut off by Ron and Blaise’s “I’m in!”. They both rushed off through the ballroom doors, and Draco chuckled lightly. 

“Pansy? Would you want to go and try to find something to eat? Ron and I were running behind, so no time for breakfast.” Hermione suggested. She knew her friends wanted time alone, and she was doing her best to help Harry and Draco out a little. 

“Sure, sure. Lure me away from the fun. Lead the way, Granger,” Pansy said, with a fake put upon sigh. She shot Hermione a smile, though so she knew she was joking. Both women went off to find their dates, and some food. 

“Alone at last,” Harry said, nuzzling into Draco’s neck. He felt like he would be happy to just make a home right here, against Draco's soft skin for all of eternity. 

“What do you think about a holiday?” Draco asked, kissing Harry on the head. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Now,” 

“What do you mean, now?” Harry asked.

“I mean, tonight after everyone is gone…we pack up and get out of here. Just the two of us. I do have a honeymoon in the Caribbean that will only go to waste,” Draco suggested, winking at Harry. 

“I say that is a brilliant idea. But, don’t you have to get back to work?” Harry asked, a little sad.

“Don’t you?” 

“Nope. Sent my resignation to Kingsley this morning,” Harry said, with a smile. 

“No more getting shot at by rogue dark magic?” Draco asked, hopefully.  
“Never again, love,” 

“Good. Then I shall send my resignation in on Monday by owl. I hated working at that sodding bank. The goblins are alright, but the men are so bloody boring! Don’t laugh!” Draco scolded at Harry’s loud laugh ringing through the ballroom. Truth be told, it was the best sound in the whole world. 

“No, I just can imagine you fell asleep.” Harry stared at Draco, who wasn’t catching his eye. He burst out laughing again. “You did, didn’t you?” 

“Only once! Or twice…,” 

“Draco!” Harry laughed again. 

“Oh, says the man who was probably bored to death everyday by paperwork!” Draco shot back, with a smirk. Oh, that smirk…Harry missed it so much. 

“Point taken. God, I missed you so much,” Harry sighed, holding Draco as close as physically possible.

“You have no idea, Harry.” Draco whispered into his ear, making the other man shiver. “On this holiday I was talking about, I plan on showing you how much I missed you. I do hope you’re up for it,” he finished with a kiss pressed to Harry’s earlobe, knowing it would make him weak at the knees.

Harry groaned in anticipation. Tonight couldn’t get here soon enough. “You’re on,” Harry promised, with a grin. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and melted into another kiss. This one was just as heated as the last one, albeit softer and more controlled. They both knew they had all the time in the world.

A fluttering of wings drew them out of their spell that had washed over them. It pecked Draco on the shoulder, and Draco raised an eyebrow at it. 

“For me?” Draco asked. 

“Must be. Take the note, love.” Harry said, squeezing his arm. 

Draco removed the owl of its burden, and it flew away, most likely to peck at the food out in the garden. His name was on the front, but he didn’t recognize the handwriting. When he read the contents, however, all he could do was chuckle. 

 

Draco,  
First of all, I want to apologize. If you are reading this, then you have figured out by now that there won’t be a wedding. I cannot marry someone I do not love. I hope you understand this. I know you do, because you do not love me either. I do hope that we can be friends, someday.  
Second of all, I’m sure you are wondering why I didn’t speak up before now. Well, it was my parents. They kept going on and on about how it will instill some good fortune into the Greengrass name, etc. etc. I cannot stand the fact they used me as a pawn just to get some credibility. I know your parents aren’t like that, and I envy you.  
Last of all, do try to be happy. I most certainly am, at the moment. His name is Billy, and he is a muggle. Yes, I know. Shocking, right? But, he is loving, caring, kind, and accepts me for who I am. I only wish you the best and hope that you find someone that loves you as much as Billy loves me. I will return to London one day…just not anytime soon. Take care, Draco.  
Astoria 

P.S. Don’t tell my Father. I want him to stew as long as possible. 

 

Draco finished the letter, shaking his head fondly. He handed it to Harry to read, and he was smiling through the whole thing. 

“So? Have you found that someone special?” Harry teased. 

“I don’t know. I might have to look around,” Draco said, with a fake sigh. 

“Oh, come here you git,” Harry growled, and pressed his lips to Draco’s again. Draco chuckled into the kiss, and cupped Harry’s face in his hands. Harry pressed a kiss to his nose. “Believe me, now?” 

“I never doubted you,” Draco said, honestly. 

“I love you. God, how good it feels to say that!” Harry laughed out loud at how happy he was. 

“I love you more than anything, Harry.” Draco replied, and couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Harry grabbed his hand and led him out of the ballroom. “Where are we going?” 

“You said something about a party?” Harry asked. 

“To the garden then!” Draco exclaimed, keeping his pace matched with Harry’s. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time, and he was determined to hold onto that feeling as long as he possibly could. Looking at Harry, he knew he felt the same way. "You owe me a dance, Potter!" Harry grinned so hard that he thought his face would crack. 

All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Nice!Malfoys. Sue me. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Love!


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